Cassie Summer is the Customer Services Manager in Sorley's, one of London's leading 5 star hotels. Responsible for more than 200 staff, the Belfast woman loves her job. If the reception can't address a customer's problem and the duty manager can't address the problem, Cassie is the next step up. If she can't make a customer happy the only recourse is the big boss, Mr Sean Sorley, and it is Cassie's over riding duty to make sure that Mr Sorley never has to deal with an angry customer.
Sean Sorley is the Irish entrepreneur who owns and runs Sorley's. He established the hotel, decorated it in a quirky, arty style that celebrities and rich tourists love, recruited the top chef for the Michelin star restaurant and built the spa that has a range of treatments so desirable people travel the world to visit it.
So it's no surprise he's a darling of the social pages, who love his handsome looks, great dress sense and soft Irish charm. And he's a great boss. The staff love him. Cassie loves him. He listens to her views, appreciates her ideas, makes her feel like a valued member of staff.
So why does Cassie feel nervous? She's been summoned to Mr Sorley's office and has no idea why. As she makes her way down the corridor she thinks hard – did she miss something, screw something up, get a complaint? Cassie knocks the door.
"Come in". Sorley is behind his big walnut desk, tapping at his lap top, "Sit down."
There's definitely something going on, Cassie hears it in Sorley's tone.
She waits, saying nothing, while the boss finishes what he's doing. Finally, he looks at her, and looks.
Sorley taps the desk with his pen. "Who is Lady B, Cassie?" he asks her.
And all of a sudden Cassie's head is spinning, little white flashes are going off behind her eyes, and all she can think is, "Fuck, fuck, fuck".
"Lady B, Cassie" Sorley repeats.
All Cassie can manage is "I've no idea".
But she has a very good idea. She just can't believe Sorley is asking her about it.
"No idea? Are you sure?" Sorley asks her.
"Yes, Mr Sorley. Is she a customer?" Cassie asks, and feels silly and guilty and certain she is going to get sacked.
"Let me refresh your memory", Sorley says cooly as he turns the laptop round.
Cassie can't help blushing as she sees the screen. A slim woman in a black under bust corset, her pert, creamy breasts thrust at the screen, holds a riding crop with a pair of velvet evening gloves. The woman's long neck is all you can see, no face.
"I don't know who she is." Cassie decides to front it out, "I can't see her face". Cassie knows you never see the woman's face, plausible deniability she had called it at the time. Impossible to prove it's her.
"How about now?" Sorley asks, hitting the play button.
The voice on the film has a posh Belfast accent, "You pathetic piece of shit. How dare you presume to stand there with your lame, little cock in your hand waiting for me to tell you how to wank. You will be on your knees licking up your cum before I am done with you".
Sorley pauses the video and watches Cassie.
"Granted, it sounds like me." Cassie concedes, "But it isn't me and I'm shocked you would think I would do this. I shouldn't have to watch this sort of...filth" Cassie is panicking now, maybe she can make Sorley think she will sue him.
"You insult me, Cassie. What sort of an idiot do you take me for?" Sorley has raised his voice, he's clipped and angry. "You are the face of this hotel, my customer liaison. You cannot fucking embarrass me like this and expect to get away with it."
Cassie shrinks back in her chair, she has never heard him swear before. She tries a more conciliatory approach, "I'd never do anything to hurt Sorley's. I swear, I love this hotel." At least that's the total truth.
"You insist on this charade? Very well." Mr Sorley points at the frozen image on the screen with his pen, "That picture in the background" he indicates a corner of a painting behind the woman, "I've seen it in your house. Those gloves, you wore them to the gala last month."
Cassie's heart sinks and she blushes red, embarrassed by her own carelessness.
"And, as if I need to go on, that emerald necklace round Lady B's neck ... you're wearing it now."
"I'm really sorry, Mr Sorley." Cassie knows she has been caught red handed, there can be no denying it now, "I love this job, and I do love this hotel, and I'm good at what I do. The job, I mean." She's babbling, "Please, no one will ever know that I'm Lady B. Please don't sack me."
